I had dinner with my future mother-in-law this weekend, and she asked my what I do for a living and stuff. I explained to her that I write for a women's interest website and then she said, "Will I be able to figure out what you've written when I go to the site? Is your byline on your stuff?" After getting over some temporary mortification at the idea of this woman reading some of the shit I've said here, I realized that it's about time that I retired this moniker, too. It's actually become increasingly embarrassing that I've been known as "Slut Machine" for this long. Not because of the name itself, but if I had known that it would follow me in my career, I would've given it more thought when I came up with it. In fact, I sort of just made it up off the cuff when I was commenting for the first time on my own site. The idea was to call myself something cheesy like "Sex Machine," but I thought that didn't sound feminine enough, so I swapped out "Sex" for "Slut." I didn't even realize that it sounded like "slot machine" until an embarrassing amount of time later.

I've never really been ashamed of anything I've done in my past, because it's all helped form me into the person I am today. But that part of my life is over now, and it seems silly to go on as a professional slut, so I'm just gonna go by Tracie from now on. And I actually might be changing my last name, too, which is something I never ever thought I'd do. But my fiancé's last name is really cool: Morrissey. And I kinda like the sound of "Ms. Moz."

Okay, so this is the graphic that I wanted to use instead of the Lucy one, as the still for the video, but Anna liked Lucy better. What do you think of it?

OK, here's a good one. I'm married to a great guy for 10 years. I started graduate school again. (I'm 32.) Now I'm in love with my good friend (a woman) and we're way more than just physical. She is compatible with me and we have great chemistry. He is almost my polar opposite but we have chemistry. Does bi-sexual exist if you are married or is it called "slut"?

I have a great and well-endowed boyfriend, but it's impossible for me to get hands-free orgasms in the sack. All of the tricks that I've read (reverse cowgirl, doggie style, etc.) don't ever work because for some reason, my clitoris has decided to be as far away as possible from my vagina that I never get any clit action during sex unless I'm the one manually doing it. Since you're a pro at sex, maybe you know other ways to get hands free orgasms during vaginal sex?

I recently reentered the dating world after a devastating marital breakup. Devastating, in no small part, because my husband and I were amazingly sexually compatible and had an astounding sex life even while he was inserting his peen in someone else's catbag for the final year of our union. I took up with a younger man who was, shall we say, rather fiery. We had sex a few times and it was ridiculous. He had me up on every piece of furniture in my house with my ankles behind my ears for two hours of hard pounding. I pleaded a few times and asked if we could just please lie down in a bed and go slowly every once in a while, to no avail. I have stopped dating him because I felt we were completely sexually incompatible. But should I have stuck it out? Could I have taught him to have sex my way? Is that possible? Or do some men just prefer the long, hard, gymnastic bang and can never be taught about the pleasures of a slow, languid romp with perhaps some hard pounding interspersed every now and again?

I have been seeing this guy for the past month or so. He is really good looking, great job, well-dressed, very polite and attentive. This weekend my friends met him for the first time, and their cumulative assessment was that he is GAY. At first I was in complete shock and a little offended, but then started considering the possibility: He cooked dinner for me, has not tried to sleep with me, and when I talk to him on the phone he is often shopping with his mother. Is he a metrosexual or totally gay?

Do you think that a guy with a girlfriend will ever dump her in favor of someone else he's sleeping with? My instinct is no but I totally want to believe otherwise for this guy I'm sometimes sleeping with and sometimes not. What do you think?

Tracie also likes to stay up until, like, 10:30 a.m. (ahem) and drink Olde English and watch reality television, habits I am beginning to pick up. But more importantly, Tracie has always been the type of girl who, when a condom gets lost inside her snatch, will write about it. Before I started reading Tracie's blog, One D At A Time, I wasn't really that type. Things change! But for a reason: it's those frank, oversharing, ever so occasionally verging-on-overly-self-referential posts that make Jezebel Jezebel, and long before she was on staff, Tracie was something of a spiritual leader to the site in that way. Because, quite frankly, fuck discretion. Discretion is how I didn't figure out how to come until I was 24 years old; discretion is why women's magazine editors persist in treating their fellow humans like total shit; and when you've spent a career trying to catch others in their own indiscretions, discretion just feels a little dishonest and superior. No one, besides maybe Tyra, understands this better than Tracie. Also she's good with computers. Maybe because she's a Taurus. Because my "alter ego" could not edit a video clip to save its life.

Aside from that wig episode, Oprah was sort of a buzzkill all week long, albeit an educational and somewhat fascinating one. This week she had on Leeza Gibbons, who was plugging her new Lifetime show What Should You Do? that "combines dramatic re-enactments of true stories with tips from experts to help viewers protect themselves and others." Basically, it's a show full of freak accidents and horror stories that will make you want to shit yourself and never leave your house for fear of almost dying in a flash flood. One woman featured on WSYD that Oprah welcomed on her couch told the story of when she was pregnant and fell over the railing from her second floor, landing on a microphone stand that punctured her chest and came out the other side! Her description of it was so gross and is making me cringe as I type this. She said that when she tried to pull the stand out of her chest, it made a suction sound! Ugh, gross. I'm stopping. No more with that.

On to happier chests:
I'd bet dollars to donuts that she's wearing Spanx here. I'd also bet that she'd rather take the donuts over the dollars. JK! JK! I don't even think she's fat. But she looooves talking about how other people do. This week we got to relive that "Kiss my fat ass!" speech. My favorite part of that whole speech was when she smacked her ass and then her weave stuck to her lip gloss and she didn't brush it away. She totally would have gotten on a contestant's bony ass about that on ANTM.
And her Gayken episode reran this week.Like the true nerd face that he is, Clay talked about the numerous allergies he suffers from, like mushrooms, shellfish, chocolate, and...nuts. That's the most creative orientation denial he's come up with yet. Now, on from latent homosexual to blatant homosexual: Ross the Intern!I love him, even though his voice confuses me, and it leads me to think about whether or not his balls ever descended. Babs was in a real mood this week. I felt like she was a bit rude to Ross, and she also got all up in Paula Abdul's over-bleached grill.I do really love, though, how she wasn't buying it that Paula wasn't on at least some sort of medication, which she did eventually get out of her. Also, I love how she tried to imply that Paula wasn't necessarily "with it" while in the dressing room that morning. I would've loved to be a fly on that wall. OK, and one last thing: Can you believe that Paula makes so much money as an accessories designer? She's like half four-year-old girl, gluing gems on her headband, and half 80-year-old lady, who wears all the costume jewelry she owns all at once, for fear that the aids in the home will knick it.

While The View was on hiatus, American opera singer Beverly Sills died. Turns out she was B. Dub's BFF, and Babs was understandably broken up about her passing, so she gave a really touching tribute on Tuesday's show, and wore this ring that Bev gave to her when she retired from 20/20.

I was so moved by the idea of inspirational accessories, that when I went to Atlantic City this week, I stopped in a cheapy jewelry shop on the boardwalk, bought a charm for $7.98 and had something meaningful engraved on it:

In case my camera-phone photography is too beautifully artistic for your eyes to comprehend what you're seeing, it's a heart that says "Doritos." Because Doritos are totally my boyfriend. Blazin' Buffalo Ranch. OK, and WTF is up with Mary Tyler Moore? She's like losing it, right? Something about her statistic that one female dog that's not spayed can produce over "76,000 puppies in a seven-year period" rings incredibly inaccurate. And nice frightening BJ face.

Speaking of frightening BJ faces:

I know I keep talking about Tyra and weaves, but that's only because Tyra keeps talking about Tyra and weaves. For real, her two fave topics are herself and fake hair. To be fair, those are now my two fave topics as well. This week she had on Jennifer Hudson (rerun) and asked her if she reuses expensive hair. (Surprise! Cheapo Tyra does!) And then she had an entire episode of giving Warren Tricomi makeovers to women with "America's Worst Hair." For the ep, TyTy donned some wack-ass wigs, I guess to make us laugh? Ty, you don't have to try that hard with us. We always laugh at you.

OK, moving on from BJ faces, how about some gay faces?

How can anyone refute the idea of there being a gay gene after the Huckabys went on Oprah? There are six children in their family, and four of the brothers turned out gay! Only three of the homo bros (hobros?) showed up for the taping. (What kind of a gay man is the fourth brother that he couldn't cancel his previous plans for Oprah Mother Fucking Winfrey? Answer: The kind of gay man I don't want to know.) And lastly, how can anyone refute the idea of a gay gene when this guy so clearly has gay eyes?

So in case anyone forgot, Oprah has been on the air forever. Especially for this kid:
He's 18 now! It's so crazy that there are legal adults now that can't remember life without Oprah. He was born during her Optifast era, right? She's looking pretty trim in those scrubs.Now, if Tyra Banks had to do a segment like this and wear that outfit, she would've cinched in the waist with a large belt. And when she saw the lady getting the C-section, she probs would've tried to eat her ribs.

But all kidding aside, Tyra does so much more than eat comfort food and then bitch about people calling her fat. For instance, she gives people makeovers (weaves, she gives them all weaves!) to improve their self esteem. She had on some meth-heads who looked like total shit before Tyra sicced her team of doctors and drag queens on them. Actually, I thought it was really nice to give this lady new teeth. Dental work is so expensive. And she's looking sort of OK now, for having been a dirty crystal meth addict before.Then TyTy gave this "tomboy" a makeover.

I almost turned into a tomboy when I saw how hot she looked after this, but then I remembered that I don't like to eat pussy play sports.

Has anyone else noticed that Tyra has hired Topanga to do the kind of field that she doesn't really want to do? Hey, that's a little bit like me with Jezebel. Except whereas Ty sends To on adventures like yard sales, Anna sends me to show my vadge around town. And I do it with the same type of enthusiasm. In fact, this is totally the face I was making when I had my legs in stirrups at the doctors' offices:Thank God Gawker Media pays better than Tyra.
She's so cheap!

This week, daytime TV was stricken with a nasty case of the reruns. Even after I lauded The View for keeping it fresh all summer, B. Dubs went and gave the ladies this week off, leaving no reason for a lot of us to get up before noon. So the only View clip we have for you is from last Friday when Molly Shannon wore a pair of coochie cutters that Babs was apparently keen on. Other clippy goodness includes Tyra all up in Queen Latifah's grill and Oprah's interior designer Nate Berkus, the GILF (gay I'd like to fuck), on the topic of sperm donation and Halle Berry (not to be deposited in any of my orifices, unfortch).

It's gonna be an all-Tyra recap here, since The View was all repeats and because other than the Nate Berkus episode, Oprah was either sad (Bob Woodruff, child slavery) or boring (Faith Hill). The main reason why I'm desperate for new Tyra episodes is because I'm sooooo over her Crypt Keeper weave.

TyTy took an AIDS test on the air, using one of those mouth swab-y things. She seemed quite at home administering the test to herself, as it was a similar movement to one of her favorite pastimes—eatin' ribs!

Then, on a different episode, she kept it AIDS-y by having on Queen Latifah, who was promoting her HBO film about the disease, Life Support. Normally when Tyra has celebrity guests of that caliber, she'll make them walk the runway and show off their outfit, but she knew that Teef is, er, different, so instead they played basketball, which all but shattered the door of the glass closet Latifah's been living in. They may as well just started having oral sex right there.Notice how Tyra throws the ball underhanded, granny-style, while Latifah throws it overhanded, lesbian-style.

Tina Knowles (Beyonce's mom) made a special appearance this week, giving viewers makeovers, which essentially means that she dressed them in House of Deréon and gave them a weave. Did you notice that all of Ty's makeover shows involve giving people weaves? The grossest episode of the week, hands down, was the one where women became seriously ill or disfigured in their quest to become more beautiful. I decided that before these images could be displayed on Jezebel, they'd need a makeover—so I gave them weaves.

Here is a makeover I performed on a woman who received a botched lipo/tummy tuck:

And I added a few tracks for fullness to these legs that developed a bacterial infection from a messy pedicure.Seriously though, you have to hand it to Tyra for being in the presence of those sores and still managing to keep her ribs down. She's so strong.

Related: Quadroon [Wikipedia]

Related: Talking Smack About Famous People You Met [Gawker]

Once a week our friend Slut Machine winnows down the most important programming on television to a delicious two to three minute-long morsel of vagina-themed gold. Behold The Lady Bunch

Thank God for The View, and the crack of B.Dub's whip. She works those ladies to the bone. They're live with new episodes all summer. Meanwhile, it's been reruns for Tyra and Oprah all week. But seriously, it doesn't matter if the eps are new or old because all the shows really only ever discuss the same two topics all the time anyway: food and sex. Don't get me wrong—I'm totally not complaining. I am so on board for any discussions regarding masturbation or a plate of ribs. Or pretty much any thing regarding masturbation or a plate of ribs.

So, let's actually review the ribs thing. We all know Tyra loves her ribs.

Remember when she sucked all the meat off the bone in one swift movement in front of the anorexic church lady Gwen Shamblin? That was awesome and all, but I do think it's weird that she's always trying to eat with her guests, even if the interview isn't about food at all. She force fed ribs to Niki Taylor, and when Molly Sims was on, she brought out some red velvet cake. It's like she won't be satisfied until all models are 161 right there with her.

Oprah served up a plate of food-based episodes, and had a whole hour with her nutritionist Bob Greene. But she also had some big names on her couch this week. She talked molestation with Mary J. Blige, and makeovers with Iman and Naomi Campbell, with whom she rehashed some of her bad hair days. I totally forgot about her Tina Turner wig. I must've suppressed the memory.

Speaking of hair, Jon Bon Jovi was on the view this week.

Wouldn't it have been more fitting had his shirt said this:

As far as guest co-hosts this week, it was the best of times and the worst of times. First off, Star Parker was on. I'm not gonna even go into because she's her own separate post. And Sherri Shepherd was on again. I thought I couldn't hate her anymore than I already did, but then she revealed this week that she's "a spanker"; and she hits her two-year-old son in public. I mean, I don't even like children, and I'm sure that anything Sherri Shepherd popped out would be at least HALF as annoying, but still, hitting babies is wrong. No?

Oprah's BFF Gayle King was on twice this week. I'm no lezzie or anything but I can't help fagging out about her. She's fabulous!

Oh, and while we're on the subject of fagging out:

I'm absolutely offended that he thinks he should be a permanent co-host. The whole thing about The View that makes it awesome is that it's women. Sorry, P. You may be a queen, and you may lack balls, but you're still not qualified for the position.

One of the best Tyra episodes this week was when she interviewed families raising conjoined twins. And even though it was a whole show packed with biological anomalies, the biggest freak of all was Tyra, natch. One of the guests was a Spanish-speaking woman, and although they had a translator on the couch, Tyra insisted on speaking pigeon Spanish to her, going into an elaborate explanation of why she can speak more than one language. Typical Tyra—always turning the interview back on herself.

As for Oprah, well, the woman loves her regulars. You know, first it was Dr. Phil, then Nate Berkus, Dr. Robin Smith, and of course, our favorite shit talker, Dr. Oz.Dr. Oz was on to talk about poop for the third time this year. This time they were discussing color more than shape. Although they did get into the shape issue. Turns out that s-shaped is the best, but comma-shaped crap is cool, too.

Speaking of, I almost made and exclamation-shaped poop in my pants when I saw that Judge Judy was on The View this week.OK, I know this is like incredibly faggy of me, but what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall of that cruise Babs took with Judy and the New York Post's Cindy Adams. Seriously, and here I was thinking that Rosie's "R Family" was the gayest cruise ship you could go on. Wrong!

The View also did a little summer fashion service-y segment of cheap shoes.
I know that they meant "inexpensive" shoes, but "cheap: certainly works a lot better. Check out the latest innovation in footwear: Church key soles. Am I the only one grossed out by the concept of taking the bottom of my shoe to the mouth of my bottle? This one is even more bizarre:I know that this is supposed to function so that you don't have to carry around a wallet or a purse with you, but for real, think about the situations in which one would need a single key, a rolled up dollar bill and a credit card/form of I.D. That shoe is one baggie and syringe away from being the awesomest, police-eluding drug kit.

For my final consultation, I decided to go to a different kind of professional who makes a living off of looking at vaginas: A pornographer. I sat down with Mitch Fontaine, co-CEO of Burning Angel, showed him my vadge and asked him what he thought. He has an interesting theory about labia that I'd never heard before at all. According to Mitch, no vaginas look alike—nor should they—but most can be categorized into at least four different classifications, as far as physical description goes.

I can honestly say that I trusted the opinion of a smut peddler more than the doctors I visited. I mean, just like with the gynos, it was no big whoop for Mitch to look at my privates, as he's probably seen more pussy than the toilets of the ladies' room at a lesbian bar. However, because he's not all clinical and stuff, and because the nature of what he does his sexual, he seemed to remember that there was a woman attached to my vagina.

From what I can tell from all of this (and from this NSFW link), the aim is to
surgically "correct" womens' labia to look one specific way. But, like, if "designer vaginas" all look the same, doesn't that make them generic? And if so, doesn't that technically make them designer impostors?

Earlier: Pimp My Vadge: A Woman's Opinion
Pimp My Vadge

Yesterday, hackles were raised after one of us responded to all the hate being directed at the film "Knocked Up" with a sort of love-letter to the film. However, in the interest of being fair and balanced (like Roger Ailes!) we've decided to present a dissenting opinion on the film, which, if all the emails and comments we've been getting reflect an accurate representation of contemporary female reality (which of course they do!) has divided American women in a way only previously seen by, uhm, the whole Is-Zach-Braff-hot question. (Answer: No.) Herewith, Slut Machine's take on the weekend's second biggest box-office champion.

And speaking of cute: Yeah, actor Seth Rogen (Ben) isn't bad. In fact, he's not nearly as fat or ugly as the movie wants you to believe. But there was way too much suspension of disbelief required in the film to even make him bearable. For one: Alison (Katherine Heigl) was just promoted to an on-air job at E! but she can't afford to live anywhere but her sister's guest house? And then shortly after the promotion, she discovers she's pregnant and decides to keep the baby even though it might jeopardize her new career when she's already seemingly in financial peril? There was absolutely no logic behind that decision making process. And I'd like someone to show me even one of those L.A. entertainment news "journalist", ladder-climbing whores who behave anything like this woman. In reality, she wouldn't have enough fat on her body to even menstruate, let alone get pregnant. (And OK, I totally got it that they didn't use protection. It was stupid but whatever, we've all been there. And Alison didn't notice? If you can't feel a hot load shooting up in you and then oozing out later, you're probably not gonna need that epidural because your vagina has no feeling anyway.)

And how bullshit is it that Ben, the dude her knocked her up, is such a giant moron that he can't even turn a profit through his adult entertainment web site? Any fuckhead with a PayPal account can make money peddling smut that way. The internet + porno = ATM machine. If you can't do that then you really shouldn't be raising babies. And yes, I understand why Alison thought that Ben was a sweet guy or whatever, but come on. I don't consider a guy's personality when I consider whether or not to abort a pregnancy. In fact, I don't consider the guy at all. I consider myself. Not just what I have to lose, but what I don't have to give. But it's fine, whatever, it was the premise of the movie. It just really fucking bothered me that the word "abortion" was never uttered in the film, except for when Ben's fat friend Jonah (who looks eerily like Brett Ratner) referred to it as "schmamortion". I was also really bothered when my mother told me that in the homily during mass this weekend, her priest was so enthusiastic about how wonderfully pro-life this movie is. The same way that right-wing zealots are irrationally afraid that Will & Grace will make people gay, I'm irrationally afraid that this movie will make bad parents out of people who would've otherwise gone to Planned Parenthood for a schmamortion.

Anyway, it was a lot easier to believe that Ben wanted to keep the baby. He was a 23-year-old loser with nothing going for him. This attractive, employed woman was the best thing to ever happen to him. And of course a stoner would think it was a good idea to raise a baby. One time I got stoned and thought it would be a good idea to develop a product of frozen salsa ice pops that I'd call Salsacles. But pot smoking aside, I found that I related to Ben's group of dudes a million times more than any of the women in the movie. And it's not because the dudes were on a permanent chill session, or because they fart edon each other's pillows (although, I am one to entertain myself by searching "fart" on YouTube). I think it's because they were actually well-developed characters, written as humans whereas the women were written as psycho harpy fembots who complained about anything and everything for no apparent reason. And that was my main problem with this film: Nothing that the women did made sense, which simply played into the stereotype that women don't base their decisions on logic or reason, but on whims and fancies. And to me, that's not funny because it's not true. Fishing for laughs through jokes based on the hormonal irrationality of women is about as lazy as say, an unemployed stoner. And frankly, I find that way more offensive and disgusting than a tight shot of a baby's head crowning in a vagina.

Earlier: Didn't Like Knocked Up? Screw You.
Related: What Knocked Up Gets Wrong About Women [Slate]

I'm gutted over the fact that Rosie O'Donnell left The View. Besides the fact that I actually enjoyed the perspective provided by "big, fat, loud, lesbian Rosie", I'm pissed that her absence has effed up the Lady Bunch graphic I made. Who the hell am I gonna put in that spot now?

On the plus side, Rosie's early departure meant that Barbara Walters was forced to actually show up to work everyday, instead of adhering to her previous part-time duties on the show. The results were magical, as they involved Barbara giving people the third-degree about their sex lives.

Monday's show, during which they celebrated Elisabeth Hasselbeck's 30th birthday, was actually pre-taped (probs from about two weeks ago), so she and Ro were still friends. They even hugged. Ah! Elisabeth is totally gay now!

Then the other ladies began talking about what their lives were like when they turned 30, and View producers showed a picture of Joy Behar at that age.
Is it just me or did Joy look great? Cute! Crap, now I'm gay.

As for Tyra, she was in reruns all week . Her recycled episodes involved making people's dreams come true (the dream, apparently, being Tyra herself) and soap operas, which involved her acting out scenes with stars from her favorite shows. It wasn't really clear why she did this but hell, we're not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. It was comedic gold.

And thank God Oprah was back on the sauce this week. It helped get us through all the serious episodes she featured, like children in crisis, some lady who got shot in the head, and SuChin Pak's Asian eye dysmorphia. And Oprah also invented her own cocktail. Guess what it has in it? Tequila! (You can find the recipe here.) Make one for yourself today and then go watch today's episode... it's all about drunk driving!

Last week, when I got a labiaplasty consultation, I had a man doctor look at my lady parts. While he told me that my vadge didn't look "that bad" (thanks?) my labia majora could still be improved upon. He recommended vaginal lip lipo, saying that it was unlikely I would ever lose the labia fat through diet and exercise because I'm not "grossly overweight" (This guy really knows how to give a girl a compliment.)

For my second opinion, I made an appointment with a woman doctor. I'd been tipped off that this doc had hired a PR firm to handle the cosmetic surgery portion of her practice. The reasons behind why a gynecologist would need to publicize such procedures seemed questionable to me. But I couldn't help but think that since this gyno was a woman, she couldn't possibly be on board for making money by allowing women to feel inadequate and self-conscious about yet another part of their bodies.

I have to say that I really liked this doctor right off the bat, which I hadn't been expecting. In her billowing, multi-layered, long black skirt, she reminded me of Stevie Nicks, and that sort of organic, mystical grace comforted me much more than the typical, cold, clinical experience of being examined.

For this visit, instead of making up some bogus excuse as to why I was displeased with my very normal labia, I decided to just let Dr. Blank, Medicine Woman take a look a my crotch and tell me what she thought of it.

I placed my feet in the stirrups. With my lips parted, I kept my mouth shut and let her go to work. To my pleasant surprise, she was way honest with me about how there wasn't much she could do, and she also informed me of some very crucial info that the dude doctor failed to relay, regarding damaging the nerves of my clit (aka my livelihood!), should I go through with any surgery to my labia majora.

You know, I thought that first doctor's idea of lip lipo sounded sort of insane. I watch Discovery Health Channel. Lipo is a violent procedure. I imagine it would ransack your property downtown. I feel for any girl who would be misguided enough to go down that route. I mean, I really feel for her. Just thinking about that shit gives me phantom pains.

Earlier: Pimp My Vadge
We're Beginning To Look A Lot Like Barbie

This week's Lady Bunch clip is an all-Tyra edition because, well, she's earned it. Seriously, her personality, much like her belts, seems to get bigger and bigger with each passing week. And that belt remark wasn't a jab at her weight. She's been really into this large belt trend, to the point where I think she'll eventually only feel the need to wear a weave, some Spanx and her waist cincher. Check out the progression:

Unfortunately, Oprah wasn't as mindlessly fun as her protege/wannabe Tyra. Last week, O was drunk, so this week was sort of like the hangover. The episode focused on much graver topics like domestic abuse, dieting, and depression.

Dr. Melfi was on to share her story of depression. Apparently, it was sparked by her divorce, over a decade ago, from Harvey Keitel, whom she cheated on with Edward James Olmos. She subsequently entered into an acrimonious custody battle with Harvs, racking up legal fees that caused her to file for bankruptcy. My question is whether her depression started before or after she took up with Olmos. You've seen what he looks like, right? I'm wondering if she lost her self-esteem somewhere within the crevices of his pock marks. And Harvey Keitel is no Adonis either. Whatever the case, she's no longer with either man, and she's no longer depressed. I'm just sayin'.

But the biggest daytime talk show news this week came from The View, per usual. Everyone was caught up in the tension between "big, fat, lesbian, loud Rosie" and "pure, innocent, Christian Elisabeth" but I was more interested in how insipid and annoying guest co-host Sherri Shepherd was.

Before the big fight began, Sherri started off the hour by explaining how the last time she was a guest co-host on The View, she and her husband were in the middle of a divorce, because he'd cheated on her and gotten some other chick preggers. But now they're totally back on and she loves being a stepmom to her husband's illegitimate new baby. OK, so that was the first sign that she's a fool.

Then, after the political discussion began, she kept cutting in and saying stuff like, "This is why I'd rather just watch Dancing With the Stars." Once the fight was in full swing, palpable tension and all, Sherri tried to cut off the whole thing by grabbing Rosie's hand and saying, "OK, we'll be right back with Alicia Silverstone." It became clear that this woman hates any confrontation, or anything that's not downright fluffy, so it's no wonder why she's took her husband and his love child back.

But yeah, everyone was all up in arms about the Rosie vs. Elisabeth fight that began because Elisabeth believes that Iraq is our enemy. However, she believes that her rack is our friend. Look at those puppies on display:

On one hand I'm like, wow, she's sort of well spoken, insisting that she relies on "facts" to dictate her belief system—maybe she is kinda smart. But then I was like, wait, she believes in Creationism, nevermind.

When I first heard about labioplasty and vaginoplasty a few years ago, it sounded like a procedure that would only appeal to porn stars and women who practice the rhythm method—you know, SUVs—Service Utility Vaginas. But vaginal plastic surgery is a growing trend as evidenced by the opening of practices dedicated to the procedure, like the one I dragged my labes to on Manhattan's Upper East Side.

Frankly, I think this whole cookie-cutter cooch thing is bunch of bullshit. I'm a feminist and everything, but I'll be the first to acknowledge that vaginas aren't always pretty. The thing is though, vaginas are supposed to be like that. And just like snowflakes, no two are the same. I'm sure there are occasions of extreme physical abnormality, but those cases are rare. Because if they were common, then they wouldn't be abnormal, now would they?

Honestly, I have no beef with my lips—they've always done right by me. So when I was finally in the doctor's office, and he asked me what I wanted fixed, I had to think fast on my feet—or in my stirrups, rather. It's really clear to anyone looking that I don't have a labia minora problem, so I made up a complaint about my labia majora. I was somewhat shocked that he agreed that something could be done to improve the appearance of my pussy.

It was weird watching the doctor push and tug at my labia in the promotional Ortho Tri-Cyclen mirror that the nurse was holding up. It was even weirder because he was kind of sexy, with his salt and pepper hair and his toothy grin. Still, it was sort of upsetting when he told me that my outer lips could stand to loose some weight through lipo. No girl likes to be told she's chubby—even if it's only in the labia. Something about that visit was fishy—and it had nothing to do with my legs being spread wide open.

Once a week, our friend Slut Machine presents her take on the week's girlie gabfests. On the docket for today: Oprah loves the booze, Tyra kicks up her heels over sex, and Rosie wonders what happened to all the feminists. Oh, and as advertised, poop makes a minor appearance. (In words, not pictures, people!) Click play to experience the insanity through another's eyes.

Sex! Booze! Feminism! Poop! These were the main topics this week that weren't just touched upon—they were groped, fondled and fingered by Oprah, Tyra, Babs and the Gang. God, I love daytime TV. But not as much as Tyra Banks loves porno. She had two shows dedicated to porn this week.

For a lady who says she's anti-pornography, Tyra loves regularly chatting it up with members of the sex industry. And while we're on the subject: How bullshit is her " don't agree with what you do" stance? Back in the day—before 161—I seem to remember Tyra having a very lucrative career posing wet and sandy on the beach in a thong, and using those tig ol' bitties to sell sheer bras. I'd bet that her "classy" sexy modeling in Sports Illustrated swimsuit editions and Victoria's Secret catalogs probably had a lot more sticky pages than those of hardcore mags with"raunchy" poses.

Bless her heart, though, as it's in the right place. Everything she does, misguided or not, is done in the name of empowering women, which actually used to be known as "feminism" for a while. The ladies on The View are old enough to remember it—and they dragged it through the mud this week. Rosie talked about how feminism was pretty much dead as a movement, and Barbara Walters told her that was because, as women, we are no longer maligned and we have won the battle. (Wait—we've achieved equality? I didn't get that memo. Yay?) And then guest co-host Kathy Griffin blamed the failures of feminism for letting Paris Hilton get so famous. I don't know, I think society as a whole needs to take the rap for that one.

Thankfully, Oprah kept it light this week—because she was drunk. That woman loves her tequila. Who knew? (Gayle did, I bet.) O threw a party with her neighbors, relaxed at a spa, danced with John Travolta, and talked about poop shapes and penis size with Dr. Oz. Suddenly, middle age seems like it might be kinda awesome.

The Oprah Winfrey Show
The View
The Tyra Banks Show
Related: One D At A Time

This week's Star publishes a rather glowing two-page spread about Lindsay Lohan's commitment to her new-found sobriety, despite numerous reports that suggest otherwise. In keeping with her clean-living, Star reports, Lindsay has been drinking tons of Kombucha, a tea brewed from bacteria and yeast. (Glad to know the yeast is going in and not the other way around!).

Star also reports that the post-rehab Lindsay is in stunningly good spirits (if "good spirits" means "top shelf," then sure!) and that her new motto is to "live everyday to its fullest—in moderation." Um, are we high, or is she? Isn't that a contradiction? Whatever the case, it's nice to know that behind those fake-tanned scowls, Lindsay is proving to be an optimist. When life hands her lemons, she takes a shot!